Wildfire
by A. Tenmeadows
Summary: Same Universe as Endlessly. Pop rock artist Dani Harper and film actress Santana Lopez tie the knot and spend the night that follows celebrating the start of their future together. Dani/Santana, 2-shot. Femslash. Don't like, don't read.


**Goodness gracious, here I am again. It's a wonder no one's sick of me. ;)**

**Enjoy. :)**

* * *

"What if she gets cold feet?"

"Dani, her dress is a Sophia Tolli. She couldn't run out on you even if she tried."

"That's not very reassuring, Kurt."

I nervously reach up to straighten my bowtie again for what's probably the twentieth time in the last five minutes. My hair stylist and best man, Kurt, is at my right elbow fiddling with the calla lily boutonniere pinned to his lapel. Santana's maid of honor, Rachel, is on the other side of the altar blushing under the smoldering gaze of her girlfriend who's sitting in the front.

I guess Quinn likes the short strapless dress Santana picked out.

The last of the guests are filing in slowly. Most of the celebrity friends my fiancée invited actually cleared their schedules so that they could be in attendance. Looking at the large crowd of two hundred, I'm honestly a little surprised at how many people made the flight to California for us.

Patina Miller grins at me from her place in the third row. Santana will be so pleased to know she made it; she was still doing eight shows a week at the Blackbox Theatre when we sent out the invitations, so it's a miracle she could get away.

Brandon Flowers tosses me a wave as he takes a seat next to one of the wedding photographers. I'm glad he could get off the set in time to see me tie the knot; apparently The Killers just wrapped filming on their new music video last night, so he only just got in this morning.

Once everyone is seated and the hum of excited chatter finally dies, the string quartet begins to play the first chords of Mendelssohn's Wedding March. I'm suddenly hyperaware of everything around me; the dust floating in the sunbeams cast by the stained glass windows, the rustling of wedding programs against the wooden pews of the cathedral. I double-check the sanctuary again and make sure that every detail is in place, ready stop the entire production if something isn't right. Santana has worked far too hard for this day to be anything short of perfect.

The orchids and lilies look spectacular and the golden organ behind the altar is bathed in a light that could only be Heaven-cast. The maroon carpet that stretches the length of the aisle is without even a single speck of dirt and the ribbon that decorates each bench is pressed and tied immaculately.

Satisfied, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. This is it.

I hear the large ornate doors of the church swing open heavily, and a collective awestruck gasp sweeps over our guests. It's only when I open my eyes again that I understand why.

Santana… my wonderful, magical, incredible bride… looks absolutely stunning.

Instead of the traditional veil, she's opted for a white birdcage that sits at an angle atop her lush dark curls. The strapless sweetheart neckline of her dress is beaded with swirling patterns, the bodice giving way to a cascade of tulle sprinkled with the magnificent glint of Swarovski crystals. Sugar is walking behind her, carefully holding the train as they make their way toward me.

But I think the most beautiful thing about Santana in this moment is her eyes.

They're sparkling with so much love and affection that I almost lose myself in them completely. I feel my jaw fall open and she blushes before giving me a smile that causes all of my anxiety to evaporate immediately. I'm so swept up by my breathtaking wife-to-be that I almost don't see her reach out for my hand. A small smirk is sent my way when I hurriedly snap my mouth closed and grasp her fingers. Guiding her to stand at my side in front of our priest, Father William, I nod for him to begin the ceremony.

"Dearly beloved," his smooth baritone pierces the silence left by the quartet. "We are gathered here today to bear witness to the union of these wonderful souls. Today, Santana and Danielle will end their lives as two and begin their journey as one."

Santana squeezes my hand gently, and I return it with a grin. I can't wait either.

"The couple has written their own vows, which they will now recite to one another."

As I try to swallow the lump in my throat, we turn and face each other. My eyes pour into my fiancée's and await the no-doubt wonderful words that she has for me.

"Dani," she begins, her voice already trembling. "When I met you, I was more lost and confused than I've ever cared to admit. I had just drifted into the city and started shacking up with Barbra Streisand and Liberace's love children."

Rachel and Kurt both smile and wave eagerly from their places and the crowd chuckles good-naturedly at her joke.

A lone tear tracks down Santana's cheek as she continues. "But then I met someone who was willing to get lost with me. Someone who was willing to throw a dart at a board plastered with our dreams and ride a bus to wherever it landed. I met you, and I knew that I'd never have to be alone again. I met you, Dani Harper, and I knew I'd found the other piece of my heart that I'd been searching for. I always used to be so worried about where I would end up; what I'd end up doing. Now I know that as long as you're with me, I can do any impossible thing I've ever dreamed of."

My heart flutters when Santana begins to rub slow circles into the back of my hand with her thumb. I clear my throat and smile at her before tugging a small piece of paper out of my suit jacket. I hear her giggle at my makeshift script, but her eyes reassure me that she wants to hear every word.

"Santana Francesca Lopez," I read my looping cursive as if the syllables will shatter if I'm not gentle with them. "You are the most wonderful hurricane ever to blow into my life. From the first moment I saw you, I decided that I was going to be your last 'first' everything.'

She ducks her head and blushes again, earning her knuckles a massage from my thumb. "I was going to make it my mission to be your last 'first' date. I did everything in my power to make sure that our trip to Lima was the last 'first' time someone met your parents. I waited until you asked me to spend the night at your apartment because I wanted to be your last 'first' time. And now, I'm so happy that I get to be your first and last wife. I love you, Santana."

Tears are flowing freely between the two of us now, and Father William hums his approval. Kurt takes the opportunity to pluck my vows from my hands and replace them with Santana's ring. I take it from him and wait for the Father's next words.

"Danielle, please repeat after me. 'With this ring, I thee wed'."

Slipping the silver band onto my love's ring finger, I gaze into her misted eyes. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Father William then looks to Santana and nods. She turns to retrieve my ring from Rachel and kisses it before doing the same. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Father William flashes us both a tender smile. "By the power vested in me as a clergyman in The Cathedral of Christ The Light, and in accordance with the laws of the state of California, I affirm your vows and declare you legally married. These whom God as joined together, let no one put asunder."

Holy shit.

We just got married.

I just married Santana Lopez.

Or rather, I just married Santana Lopez-Harper.

Damn, it feels good to say that.

"You may now kiss your bride."

Finally, the part I've been waiting for since I saw her walk down that aisle.

I take Santana's waist and meld my lips to hers, our friends and family erupting in thunderous applause as we kiss for the first time as spouses. I wish I could stay in this moment forever.

That is, until my wife pulls away and whispers in my ear.

"Now, we can have 'we just got married' sex."

Oh, fucking hell.

* * *

Our reception flies by at the speed of light.

We spend a magical first dance swaying along to the sultry tones of John Legend, who flew in at my wife's request to sing for us. Santana's mentor from the time she spent acting on West End, Hugh Laurie, plays some jovial arrangements on the piano while the chefs serve our five course meal. The next thing I know, Santana's dragging me over to cut our four layer wedding cake, complete with frosting roses attached to fondant stems.

As everyone enjoys the absolutely exquisite food (the only part of the planning process that Santana allowed me to have any say in), I excuse myself from our head table and cross the banquet hall to the small stage. Giving the signal to my drummer, Hugh, and my back-up vocalist on the other side of the room, they begin to set up their respective areas for my performance. I retrieve my beloved Ibanez acoustic guitar from a case next to the platform and set it down before removing my suit jacket and draping across a nearby chair.

Picking up my guitar by its strap and slinging it over my head to rest on my shoulder, I begin to roll up my sleeves as I clear my throat into the microphone standing in front of me.

"Hello, everyone," I breathe, and the entire room cheers when they turn to look at me. "Thank you all so much for joining me here on the greatest day of my life."

Our guests applaud again, and Santana raises her glass to me before taking a sip of champagne.

"As you know, Santana and I have a very special connection to music. It often says the things we want to say but can't. That's why, in honor of this fantastic day, I've written a little song that I'd like to sing to my beautiful wife."

While the other people in the room continue to clap, Santana just flashes me a knowing smile. After my little stunt at the VMAs, I'm sure she was expecting something like this. Once Kate is comfortable behind me on the drums and Shelby has adjusted her own microphone properly, I take a guitar pick out of my pants pocket and begin to strum.

"_Never was much good at hoping  
until you took my heart and tore it open.  
Never understood what love was  
until I took your hand with the Lord above us._"

Hugh accompanies me beautifully, and everyone around me starts to clap to the beat. The only who hasn't joined them is Santana. She's still just sitting at our table with the wry smile I've come to love on her face.

"_And then you caught flame like a wildfire;  
you came running into my life.  
And you light up the dark but I can't see  
how you belong to a girl like me.  
(How you belong to a girl like me.)_"

Rachel stands and pulls Santana up with her, the pair of them rocking to the beat of the drums. My wife just smiles and dances along with her friend, all the while never taking her eyes off of me. Just by the way her nose crinkles, I know that she understands what I'm trying to tell her.

I'm telling her that without her, I wouldn't be able to stand in front of millions of people and pour my heart and soul into music I've written about love. I wouldn't be able to say that for the first time in my life, I'm exactly where I want to be. Hell, without Santana, I'd still be that rebellious little shit with blonde hair and too many tattoos, wasting my life waiting tables and being angry at my parents.

"_I have learned that you're not perfect;  
and that sometimes the one you love can burn you.  
It's just the fools looking backwards;  
a bitter heart turns the love we made to ashes.  
(A bitter heart turns the love that we made to ashes.)_"

Shelby gives me little bit of a break by adding a small run (which I really don't mind; she wouldn't be working for me if she wasn't talented), and I take the chance to mouth the words 'I love you' to the beautiful woman now spinning in circles across the floor. Her dress billows around her and I'm so awestruck that I nearly miss the bridge completely.

God, my wife is perfect.

"_When you love someone,  
they're going to hurt you.  
When you love someone,  
they're going to burn you.  
But don't let that burn you down._"

One of the things I love so much about being with Santana is the fact that she isn't looking for a storybook love, and neither am I. We both understand that we're going to fight just as hard as we love, and not every day is going to be a good one for us. We'll shout at each other sometimes; we'll break things occasionally. But when we climb into bed at night, we'll wipe the slate clean and try again. We can't be hung up on the little things that make us crazy, because we'll end up missing all the big things that make us beautiful.

"_Because you caught flame like a wildfire.  
When I'm with you, I'm so alive.  
And you light up the dark but I can't see  
how you belong to a girl like me.  
(How you belong to a girl like me.)_"

I'm met with a standing ovation when my last chord begins to fade. All of our friends and family seem overjoyed to see the love-struck effect Santana has had on me. As I shrug off my guitar and hand it to Shelby, my wife holds up her dress and begins to run (as fast as the garment permits) toward me. I engulf her in my embrace when she reaches me, twirling her around while we both laugh joyously.

I honestly never thought I could be this happy.

When I finally allow her feet to touch the ground again, our inner circle converges on us all at once to sing their praises: Mr. and Mrs. Lopez, Kurt, Rachel with Quinn in tow.

Santana pecks my cheek and nips my earlobe before she goes to mingle with them. "I'll show you how much I loved it later."

Jesus fucking Christ, I can't wait.

* * *

**Dani's song is written and sung by the incredibly talented Ben Rector. If you've never heard him, look him up and give him a listen. Man's voice is perfection.**

**Until next time! :)**


End file.
